


hazard

by pndglcs



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 8/24 day 2019, Arthur tops, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Unsafe Sex, semi-angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 19:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20377216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pndglcs/pseuds/pndglcs
Summary: They both knew that was a promise Arthur couldn’t probably keep.But they didn’t know how long they could be as close as this.[EngSpa Day 2019]





	hazard

**Author's Note:**

> **disclaimer:** aph © hidekazu himaruya  
.  
the fic is mentioning war but i wouldn't specify which one but if you could recognise just ... enjoy haha.  
english is not my native language but i won't excuse myself for making mistakes so feel free to correct it.  
happy spuk day <3

It was yet another quivering December evening in the late centuries when the war supposedly ended by the last April. Nevertheless, it never meant that the world had been completely safe from any explosion or upcoming gun shootings; it could come back anytime and could never be avoided.

No, once again there would never be a safe place to stay. Outside this country, another war exploded last September and it was much bigger than in here.

Antonio was lucky enough that he didn't live in a scattered concretes propped by fractured wood planks, nor did he struggled to keep living by seeking refuge in any small broken house that was still standing there.

Antonio stayed inside his house this all day, he did nothing particularly on spending his time beside sleeping, cooking, eating, and cleaning his own small house. The neighbourhood changed significantly following the war. Some of them died, some of them moved away, the rest were fine but they had not started their activity outside the house.

For the last two years Antonio served as that one doctor on his squadron (thanks to his doctor degrees that Antonio never expected to led him there), dealing with wounded, injured, dying folks. Though, he always carried a gun in his pocket back then. That was the moment that changed his life forever and he would never forget it.

The living room’s clock ticked at 5.45 p.m. where Antonio already rested his stiff body on the couch for not so long before he heard a loud shriek of bell rang from the front door. He wondered who the hell visited him this late. 

The world, yet again, still was not safe. Even if the war in his country had been declared to an end, he might get his head being shot as soon as he opened the door, or in another case was being seized by the opponents that still roamed throughout the whole state.

However, his heart convinced him to stand up and open the door to see who was coming. And when he opened it, there stood a familiar figure with a crook of thin smile on his exhausted face.

Antonio held back a gasp, his eyes widening in a strange awe. He was making sure himself if he wasn't dreaming. He recognised that guest very well.

"Arthur?!"

Antonio probed with jolt of strange happiness sparkling inside his stomach. He stared up the young man's head to the tip of his muddy boots.

Arthur was one of the British infantry volunteers he met and soon tagged along with him during the war; he always followed Antonio everywhere he went, from Badajoz to Madrid; Barcelona to Aragon.

When he first came to Spain he was very young and Antonio was the one who doubted his ability to fight. But Arthur proved everyone wrong with his agility and the accuracy of shooting from any distances. They never expected that they would bound a close relationship more than everyone’s belief.

His last moment with Arthur was when he departed back to England; almost a year ago. He saw him waved his hand before slowly disappeared into a big ship and Antonio scarcely watched him with his blurry sight because of his spilling tears.

"How did y—_ y’rite? _" 

Antonio tried to greet him combined with cheerful smile smeared across his face, his palms reached the young Englishman's pale cheeks.

They were so cold.

And Arthur finally lifted the corner of his lips as he grabbed Antonio's warm hands with his own.

"Bien."

Arthur unveiled his typical charming grin, showing his delineated teeth that Antonio really should resist the urging desire to hug him tight when he whispered small words of _ "I'm home” _. Rather, he gave his English mate a quick greeting peck on each side of his cheeks.

"¡Madre mía, _ joder _! You've gotten much scrawnier, mate!" he ruffled Arthur's hair and frowned when he noticed the slight change on his young mate's appearance, observing him with a fretted long gaze. He acted more like a worried mother when her little son came home late with a bruising wound on his knee. "Still got the same height as me, though. I thought you would shrink!"

The elder of the two huffed a low breath of relief, then pulled Arthur's shoulders to let him in before he locked back the entrance.

Nothing changed much when Arthur entered inside Antonio's house. He was once staying here for approximately a month—or two, he couldn't recall. It permeated a strange nostalgic feeling when he glanced at one side wall full of certificates and some old photos owned by the Spanishman.

He was sat on the couch nearby and Antonio took of his thick coat.

"Fancy a cuppa? I'll fetch it for you. Just ... wait a second." 

Arthur lifted his one thick eyebrow, wondering since when did Antonio hoarded a stock of teabags while he was never a big fan of it.

"Alright. Cheers."

* * *

Later Antonio came with a full tray of teapot and cup with a small plate of Marie biscuits. Arthur reached it with a hand to grab his serving after muttering a quick "thank you". When he sipped the tea for the first time it surprisingly tasted good that Arthur could even compare with his own cup of tea.

Their light conversation was all about tea, which Antonio told Arthur that the tea he had was actually a spare of ransom left during the civil war, it was originally sent for British soldiers but Antonio ended up buying them from a small shop near La Rambla.

He told Arthur that sometimes he had a quick afternoon tea time instead of doing siesta, a simple remembrance of his late British comrades who helped him along. Arthur was chuffed hearing that anecdote.

“I’m so happy you came back,” Antonio remarked, a spark of excitement splattered across his wide smile, his green eyes shone bright with happiness. But Arthur was looking at him with an exact opposite expression, like he was going to tell something that he would regret because it would make Antonio sad.

"I just want to see you for a while." he murmured with his eyesight deflected from his mate. "I will go to Germany this week."

And Antonio suddenly froze. All of his contentment and joy of Arthur being back to him shattered into small pieces. His brain stuttered for a moment and his smile faded away. 

"... sorry?"

Arthur didn’t have the courage to look up to Antonio and facing him straight with such pitying eyes. He already knew Antonio was very disappointed right now.

"It’s … the war, outside there. I … want to say—"

The Spaniard’s eyes squinted at the long pause. And at that moment Arthur dared himself to stare Antonio back, fighting his own guilt when he glanced at his friend’s sour expression.

“Thank you for all your care during my time here." 

Antonio sighed a desperate laugh, wishing that all was just a joke. A bad joke. It was hurt. So hurt that he couldn’t describe with words. "But you'll be back again, no?" he pathetically tried to sway his anxiety away. "To here ... or your hometown in England ..."

"..."

The blond haired male was reluctant to answer him, and it made Antonio’s mind even felt emptier. He knew that it would be a wish Arthur could never guarantee. He knew it.

"Antonio—"

"It's alright. Don’t mind my silly whinge." Antonio showed him a weak, broken smile. He tapped Arthur's forehead by his finger. "You've grown a man."

Arthur cracked a cheeky grin emphasising his already striking features. "You should be proud," he said, yet Antonio only responded with a shrug of his shoulders and a breathtaking chuckle. He gathered the empty cups on the tray, preparing to clean them in sink.

As he reached the counter to put the utensils, Arthur watched his back with a gaze he couldn't describe. It was the same strong back that protected him from the uproaring bullets and swords, from the chaotic burst of bomb shells and from bleeding his own vulnerable body. It was the same back that carried him safely while he was wounding on every part of his body.

"How old are you now, Arthur?"

"23 in the next April."

"That means you're still 22!"

They laughed. And it was ridiculous because of course Antonio recognised Arthur's age as well as his birthday.

"And … you have nothing to thank me for," Antonio murmured while arranging the empty cups before wiping the porcelain tray. "We were comrades by the previous war here. I—** _did_ **—think of you as my own brother. A stupid, reckless little brother,"

"You took care of me in my tough time; healing my wounds so that i could stand again, feeding me when my arms fractured, raising me well before I was able to go back to England," Arthur insisted, being the usual stubborn himself. He watched the way Antonio's shoulder slightly shuddered; either he was laughing or crying in his silence, Arthur wasn’t aware.

"You don't sound like yourself with those melancholic words." The older man sighed a sour laughter.

"Yeah ... sorry." 

"No need to apologise."

When he was about to turn his body around, Arthur was already behind him; standing close, even the tip of his nose rubbed against Antonio’s cold cheek. 

Antonio stood silent for a while, feeling the soft, warm breath brushing the nape of his neck. From this close, he could smell how Arthur's scent was. It was like the smell of a forest wood in rainy season, sometimes he smelt like a newborn baby.

"Arth—"

He was hushed when Arthur swiftly pressed his lips against Antonio’s as the Spaniard tilted his head. He sucked softly on Antonio’s lower lip before moving to the corner of his mouth. Warmth radiated across his face as it turned red. They had never done this before. The kiss was long enough till Antonio beckoned that he needed to breathe fresh air.

Arthur had a thought that he would get slapped or punched for his sudden impolite action. But Antonio didn't react as he expected. Instead, he tilted his head to the side and Arthur knew he wanted a kiss down his neck. The blond haired male obliged with a thin smile engraved on his face, trailed his lips down to Antonio’s jawline, then prompted to his neck, licking and kissing his pulse point that made Antonio panted shuddered breaths.

Arthur tightened his arms around Antonio’s waist like he wouldn’t ever let that beautiful creature disappear.

"Don't—" A sharp groan left his mouth open. Antonio found Arthur’s hand and held him firm, lacing their fingers together. "—go ..."

“Don’t go …” he kept repeating the same whimper as he leant his back against Arthur’s chest. His whole body suddenly paralysed and his body felt light, only Arthur the one who could prop him up so that he wouldn’t fall. 

Antonio did never want Arthur to go again. To the battlefield that appeared to be anything; the clangour of swords and bullet guns shrieks never been hushed. It rained blood there, and death was really something even Arthur couldn’t abscond. Nowhere was safe. Nowhere. But at least they could breathe a little easier here.

“Te echo de menos—”

Arthur didn't respond to any single words regarding his upcoming departure. Thus, his other hand slipped in Antonio's shirt and gently stimulating him with soft touches that made him huffed at the odd sensation.

"Can I ...?" he whispered carefully; begging him permission to touch, to caress, to embrace him with little more intimacies.

Antonio nodded. He agreed that in his own consciousness. 

“A_h _—rthur!”

He wanted to kiss him back. Pressing his lips against him and exploring his tongue through his mouth, down to his sharp jawline, through his shoulder. Antonio wanted to wrap his arms around the Brit's shoulder and his back, holding him tight and savour his warmth. Not letting him go and die.

Arthur ran a hand over the brunette’s chest, rubbing his nipple until Antonio uttered a soft hiss that caused him turned on and got harder even more.

"Bed," Antonio's voice cracked. Arthur still held him behind, had not finished his foreplay just yet. They had been in that state for half an hour, and Antonio went limp in Arthur’s grip, his knees trembling and he almost fell if Arthur wasn't behind him.

Arthur lifted him up a bit while pulling him down their way into Antonio’s bedroom.

Once they get into the bed, Arthur sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Antonio on top of his lap. Antonio’s clothed back pressed against his chest and his head rested on Arthur’s shoulder while the Brit roamed his hands over his body thoroughly, savouring his soft whimper and moan, feeling his fingers squeezing his knees.

Antonio twisted his body once again so he could reach backward to wrap an arm around Arthur’s neck, kissing him slowly and softly, seeking a trace of comfort that words would never able to describe, letting Arthur’s tongue glided in as far as he wished, letting Arthur suck and drink from him, letting the younger man engulf his moan and his whimper.

The young Englishman rubbed his lean fingers over Antonio’s chest again, fondling his nipples and drew a long whimpering moan to his mouth until they finally pulled away from their kiss, feeling each other’s panting breaths against their red cheeks. 

“Antonio … may I?” Arthur whispered a low husky voice close on Antonio’s ear, causing him gulp. 

“Y-yes, just _ fuck me _—”

Arthur smiled. A gentle, genuine smile he rarely showed to others except those who were dear to him. _ No, I wouldn’t fuck you and only make you hurt _; apparently that was what he wished to phrase from his own smile.

He laid Antonio down onto his bed and tugging his black shirt up, exposing his abdomen to his upper-half body. Arthur lowered his head down, prodding his tongue out to lick a nipple and Antonio spontaneously elicited another delicious moan which made Arthur grew harder every time he cried out his name. Arthur started to nibble and sucking it smoothly, whilst Antonio writhed beneath him, fingers clenched on Arthur’s head, chanting his name loudly between his tremor pants. He was already sensitive, and Arthur brought that odd sensation when he twisted his tongue there.

Soon enough Antonio noticed that they were both hard against each other’s crotch, he intuitively shifted his hand away to pull Arthur’s trousers down and stripped his undergarments before he did it barehanded to himself, then he reached the younger man’s hard member and gently stroked it.

“_ Bloody fuck—! _”

Arthur choked his own surprise, and Antonio was pleased with it as his lips twitched; fighting his own mischievous grin.

“I want you,” he whispered on Arthur’s ear with intensity and lustful hoarse voice that brought Arthur goosebumps. “Inside me—_ ahh! _ Joder!—Stop biting my nipple!”

The Brit gave him back that mischievous smirk and Antonio wished if he was given a chance he would’ve smashed that face.

“I don’t even have any condo—”

“No. Let’s just try it bare,”

“Ha?” Arthur raised an eyebrow, his hesitant gaze splintered up to Antonio’s. And there was a long pause between them, the only sound they could hear was their own breathing. 

“I want us to feel each other’s skin with no barrier,”

“... okay.” 

He finally complied. Antonio awarded him with a quick peck on his temple before Arthur raised his body, his hand reached the night stand beside Antonio’s bed and began rummaging inside its drawer until he got the lube out of it, then squirting a large clump to his fingers.

He spread Antonio’s legs open and crawled between them. When he pressed a finger, Antonio arched off the bed and shouted, which startled him by that reaction. Arthur reckoned this might be Antonio’s first time judging by how agonisingly tight his channel clamping on him. He tried to move again, careful and reverent, all he heard was Antonio hissed between his teeth.

“Look, Antonio, don’t force yourself. We’d better st—”

“Bloody hell, Arthur! Don’t mind me!” A disgruntled yell glided out of the Spanishman’s mouth amidst his wild gasp, irritated by the way Arthur treated him like a fragile glass vase that would break if someone touched it a little too hard. It's not that Antonio hated it, though.

“You’re too overcareful! I won’t die just by being shagged, okay? _ No te preocupes _,”

“Okay, sorry. I mean—sorry, just hold on for a while.”

His guilt forgotten as he wrestled his own desire to burst a laugh over Antonio's sudden annoyance. He resumed working on stimulating Antonio’s inside until he reached only the second finger before Antonio impatiently hurried him to replace his fingers with his hard leaking member. “Enough … you can take me now,”

Arthur swallowed his own saliva, aroused by the look of the man lying half-naked below him; panting hotly from his parted lips; his wet beautiful long lashes covering his half lidded eyes. His black long sleeved T-shirt was half tucked up his body, exposing his lower part from his heaving chest to his flat stomach, from his crotch to his spread, trembling legs. He mewled wantonly and gripped Arthur’s forearm.

“I really won’t hurt you?”

There came again, his annoying doubtful question. Antonio exhaled a long sigh, this time he was more patient because he understood that Arthur did that for his own good. 

Antonio pulled a reassuring smile, stroking Arthur’s cheek to make him sure he would be fine. “No. I know you won’t, you're a good boy after all.”

“Anytime you want me to stop, just say it.” 

Arthur smiled back at him before laying another prompt kisses on Antonio’s lips and forehead. He slid one arm below the small of Antonio’s back and lifted it to slip a pillow under his hips. Subsequently, he hoisted the Spanishman’s legs so that they could be wrapped around his waist.

When Arthur lined himself up against Antonio’s entrance, he looked at Antonio again, asking for his consent, and Antonio nodded eagerly. Soon enough Arthur slowly pressed forward, entering Antonio with a little force. 

“_ Ah _ — _ fuck _!” he cried out of pain; his vision went white-out and he discovered that his eyes were extremely wet of uncontrollable tears. Antonio’s body spasm while Arthur glided in with a tormenting slow pace, breaching him open in a relentless and perfect burn. He got that Arthur wouldn’t probably want him to suffer, but Antonio demanded it to be quick because God, the sting was real; it made his legs trembled hard on Arthur’s waist—and Arthur could feel it well.

Antonio hissed out the Englishman’s name with his eyelids fluttered shut, long lashes drenched with a mingle of tears and sweat. “Ggh—“

“_ Antonio _ …” Arthur whispered in dismay once he was fully sheathed in. The low, quivering wail from the older man urged him to pause. He grunted at the tightness which surprised him for a second because Antonio’s muscles clenched, as if they were struggling to force Arthur out as he had to force his way in.

All Arthur could do was placing tender kisses against Antonio’s straining neck and up to his lips; muffling his shocked moan. Antonio spontaneously slipped his hands down Arthur’s back, gripping him tight as he reopened his eyes and their identical green orbs met with an honest gaze when Arthur lifted up his head.

“Look at me,”

Beautiful. Antonio’s green eyes were so beautiful that Arthur could not even find any perfect words or phrases to describe it. His eyes were more than plaid shades of old green; sometimes it reminded him the lightness of summertime when the sun smearing each extended leaf. It was so unfair that they got the same shades of colour in their eyes but Arthur’s were just … ordinary.

“Hurt?” he thoughtfully asked, moving his thumb and wiping away the tears on the Spaniard’s cheek.

“—n-no.” Antonio panted, trying hard to hide his pained expression as much as he could do. He took shivering deep breaths just to make himself calm from tensing and some severe cramps. Soon Antonio’s nails were digging Arthur’s back, possibly left bruising marks without he even realised it. “It’s nothing you should worry,” he reassured, as the pleasure started roaming through his stomach.

They could feel each other’s breath bruising their skin as Arthur presses his forehead against Antonio’s, patiently waiting for him to get used to it and try to relax his muscles.

“Move, you can—_ uh- _move,” Antonio pleaded, burying his face on Arthur’s shoulder and drew out his teeth on his skin. Arthur nodded, he moved slowly at first, Antonio already groaned, impulsively biting Arthur’s shoulder making him hissed.

He tensed, unable to stop his muscles from over-contracting when Arthur inside him. His length was throbbing hard against his walls. It hurt too much, sharp and burning, ripping his body in two, but it felt so good at the same time. Antonio squeezed his eyes tight, struggling to stop the tears pouring down his cheeks and Arthur’s neck and also his shoulders. But it was worth everything because he always wanted it.

Just immediately upon it, Arthur initialised his slow movement, pulling himself out and shoving it back thoroughly, making sure Antonio wasn’t getting uncomfortable by the foreign sensation filling him inside. He looked down at him, his hair falling sweat-damp almost overshadowing his dark, lustful eyes and Antonio’s heart was having a thrill for watching him like that. Arthur looked so unusually attractive from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his action. 

They moved, trying to synchronise; twisting and writhing, pulling and pushing each other to the edge of pleasure. The pace was too overbearingly slow as if Arthur shifted too hard he would break Antonio. His fingers trailed across his dear mate’s oversensitive nipple to rub it carefully and Antonio couldn’t bear to hold back a sinful noise elicited from the back of his palm.

Arthur stopped moving for a while, wrapping his arms around the older man, his hands pressed under Antonio's back, gripping him firm in an emotional embrace while burying his face in Antonio's neck and inhaled every scent of him.

The brown haired man could no longer hide his emotional outburst and was openly sobbing his weep. Fusing emotions rallied into his thumping heart; sadness, sorrow, anger, and disappointment, he was helpless to determine which one felt stronger so that he gritted his teeth in a frustrating way.

“I’m so fucking afraid,” he let out a broken whisper against Arthur’s ear. “I lost my parents, my relatives, my close mates, my comrades, and everything back then. If I should lose you as well I would never—”

Arthur pulled himself up and gazing over his mate, sympathising every shattered sob from his throat. He leant his head down to press a quick tender kiss against Antonio’s trembling lips.

“You were just back and you’ll leave soon, how can’t I get depressed—_ fuck! _”

Seeing Antonio like this might be unusual for someone who didn’t know him well. As much as Antonio showing everyone his bright smile and his cheerful demeanour, he shrouded an exact opposite side of him behind those all, and Arthur was one of the lucky person whom Antonio trusted to unveil his real self.

Arthur seemed to understand why Antonio was broken throughout his toughest time, laying and suffering all alone without anyone helping him. Arthur was his only saviour but soon he would vanish right in front of his own eyes.

Soon as the Spaniard calmed down, Arthur set up to rock back. He gradually speeded up each thrust until the man beneath him cried out like a man dying, nails digging his back that would likely left obvious marks. The pain his nails gave was sharp but Arthur thought that it was worth his deserving, as much as he didn’t mind if it could even drawing out blood.

Though Antonio actually preferred it fast and rough, Arthur had his own way to please him in their current atmosphere. 

Just as their noses bumped against each other, Arthur reached down a hand between their scalding bodies and wrapping it around the other man’s own erection, stimulating him in time with his thrusts. Therefore he heard Antonio yelled and groaned on his straining neck before lick it wantonly, then nibbled it and drawing out Arthur’s brisk moan.

Antonio choked when the tip of Arthur’s length nudged his prostate, then he lurched forward as he felt himself leaking pre-come on Arthur’s grip. He cried and shook his head vulnerably, couldn’t hold out much longer.

Not long afterwards Antonio came first, spilling his come with a shrill scream echoing the room and he wasn’t recognising his own voice. He went limp as he finished, the rest was to relish every pound Arthur gave to him with uncontrollable high-pitched moan and cry and lustful noises. Arthur’s member was about to burst inside his arse. Antonio could feel it tweaking and twitching, hot and steamy. 

“_ A-rth _—ur …” he muttered a broken whimper as Arthur’s thrusts grew erratic and unstable as well as his shaky grunts.

“I’m—” Arthur clasped his own breath, sweat soaking his from his temples. “—fucking … close.”

“Let it go, Arthur ...” Antonio whispered weakly, sliding his arms around Arthur’s back, comforting him with affectionate rubs. “It’s okay,” he tightened his grip as the younger male returned his embrace, sobbing on his shoulder while choking out his former comrade’s name silently before he finally spurted his come deep inside Antonio.

They both moaned into each other’s mouth with Antonio relishing the feel of Arthur’s length twitching against his inner walls, filling him up to the brim hence he felt so full. It was so warm, contrasting with the air outside his house.

Arthur spent a long second until he was shaking from the aftershocks of his powerful orgasm before he collapsed above Antonio, his head resting on the Spaniard’s chest and letting him to stroke his ruffled wet hair. Antonio laid down a kiss on his forehead as soon as they regained their breathing. His hole was holding Arthur’s softened member safe and warm as neither one of them wish him to pull away.

“Don’t leave me alone again, please … I don’t have anyone left but you,” 

Antonio’s eyes went blank at the realisation that Arthur would have to leave soon. The sound of the analogue clock in his room ticked like a time bomb that could explode the next second and unstoppable. Arthur was unmoving on his tight grasp, listening closely to his pained words.

“I love you more than anyone does,”

—Arthur held his breath in shock upon hearing that sentence.

“Anyone, say you? I always think nobody loves me.”

“No, I do.”

"How can I believe tha—"

"I won't let you fuck me if I don't love you. As well as I won't be your bloody caretaker, watching you grew stronger back then, if I don't love you. I won't—" he paused when the tears shamelessly ran through his face again. "—shed my tears for someone I don't love." He was having no control to his weep and nothing frustrated him more than that. He counted how many times he had cried today and he pitied himself for letting his guard off.

On the other side, Arthur could feel his eyes getting wet as well and he quickly nudged his head back to Antonio’s neck so that he wouldn’t be able to see.

“You always tell me that a man shouldn’t cry,” Arthur complained. His voice shaken and Antonio chuckled at his childish pouting. 

“Men are just human with emotion. Crying is just a human thing.” He wiped his tears away and trying to mumble a smile although it meant a bitter smile. "Please … stay safe for me." he gave Arthur a final whisper but the younger lad only tightened his embrace, squeezing his damp eyes shut because he was honestly feeling afraid.

They both knew that was a promise Arthur couldn’t probably keep.

But they didn’t know how long they could be as close as this.


End file.
